


Pinkie Promise

by gummybearjared



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Kindergarten & Pre-school, First Kiss, Growing Up Together, Jock!Dean, M/M, Mild Language, artist!Cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 04:21:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2296466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gummybearjared/pseuds/gummybearjared
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'There were two preschools in the local town. However, one was a beat up piece of shit held together with duct tape and dental floss, so it wasn't surprising that Dean and Castiel ended up in the same preschool class, sticking pasta to paper and mixing red and green to make a colour that looked like the back end of a cow.'</p><p>A bit of preschool, a quick dash through middle school, and then the long, hormonal drag that is high school: we'll follow these two through it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Full Body Painting

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this was thrown together REALLY quickly before I ran out of motivation. Not fully happy - feedback greatly appreciated. I haven't written much before so I hope this isn't awful.  
> Jessie

Dean Winchester first remembers seeing Castiel Novak when he was four years old. The memory was vivid: huge removal trucks, the chaotic hubbub of voices and footsteps thundering in and out of the house next door. He stared out of his window overlooking the scene, mouth and eyes wide open. His gaze was fixed on the four boys charging around their new front garden excitedly. Well, 3 of them were at least.

The fourth boy, the youngest by the look of it, stood slightly aside, hands twisted together and eyes nervously down. His shock of dark hair stood out in sharp contrast to the golden blonde of his older brothers. Dean rested a chubby cheek in one palm, content to stare unabashedly at the commotion, though his gaze always seemed to be drawn back to the quiet boy in the background of the chaos.

"Dean, food is on the table," came the gruff voice of his father from downstairs.

Dean sighed and pushed regretfully away from the window, skipping happily towards the stairs with only a small glance over his shoulder towards the window.

Yes, that was the first time Dean Winchester saw Castiel Novak. And it sure as hell wouldn't be the last.

***

There were two primary schools in the local town. However, one was a beat up piece of shit held together with duct tape and dental floss, so it wasn't surprising that Dean and Castiel ended up in the same preschool class, sticking pasta to paper and mixing red and green to make a colour that looked like the back end of a cow.

It was the first day. John had given Dean a quick pat on the head, before chucking him out of the car and speeding off to work, leaving the five year old standing on the curb outside the strange building to find his classroom. Luckily he was swept up by a kind assistant in a floaty yellow smock who whirled him into a vibrantly coloured room full of pictures and numbers on the walls. He was sat in a seat among the other children and shushed by the teacher who promptly announced a finger painting lesson, and all the children raced to grab huge sheets of creamy white paper and pots of thick, brightly coloured paint.

Dean raced around, delighted with this turn of events. He had been expecting boring things like spelling and reading dumb books. Finger painting was FUN. He gathered an armful of things and dragged them to a corner, where he spread out on the floor with a dopey grin. Opening a pot of glistening red paint, he glanced briefly up, and was surprised to see the boy from next door still sitting awkwardly in his allocated seat, head bowed and biting his lip anxiously. Dean clambered to his feet and tottered off towards the dark haired boy.

"Hello," he beamed, "I'm Dean." 

The boy jumped a little, peering up at him through the tangle of brown hair. He blinked a few times nervously.

"Do you want to come do painting with me? I got loads of colours and stuff." The boy gave a shy half-nod in return, and Dean's grin grew. "Okay, come on then!" He led the strange boy over to his corner and they both lay down in front of the paper, legs touching. 

"What's your name then?" Dean asked conversationally, smiling encouragingly at the boy before proceeding to plunge his entire hand into the red paint pot.

"Castiel," the boy whispered, wincing at the sound of the name. 

"Whoa, cool name! My name is so boring," Dean said chattily. He stuck his paint drenched hand out to Castiel. "Nice to meet you Castiel."

Cas eyed the hand for a moment before blushing and reaching out to shake it. The handshake soon escalated so they were frantically pumping their arms up and down, giggling, paint splattering across the page. The ice was broken. The rest of the lesson passed in a colourful, messy blur, finger painting gradually escalating into full body painting. 

They eventually sat back on their haunches, eyeing the masterpiece they had created with a critical gaze. The brown, soggy page seemed to gaze mournfully back at them. Castiel turned to Dean, shiny eyed. Dean wiped his brow and blew out a long breath, face glowing. 

"Our art is so cool Cas!" 

"That was fun," Cas grinned quietly

They sat for a moment, staring at each other with beams stretching from ear to ear until they were hustled into a bathroom to wash by the smiley lady in yellow who smelled of peanut butter.

Cas turned to Dean as the door swang shut behind the lady and giggled, "You have paint on your head," he said delightedly, vaguely gesturing. Dean reached up to furiously scrub it off. "No, wait, the other side, just here..." Cas reached up with a tissue and carefully wiped away the smear of red. Dean studied him closely, taking note of the gummy laugh and the clear blue eyes. 

"Lets be best friends Castiel," he said suddenly, pronouncing Cas' full name delicately, carefully. Cas beamed, shocked. 

"Okay then, best friends."

"Pinkie promise?" Dean persisted

Cas reached out and linked their pinkies together. "Pinkie promise," he agreed.

 

 


	2. Middle School Basically Sucks

They went through preschool together, virtually inseparable. They played in their front gardens morning and evening, crazy made up games with magic and adventure. They ate together, got muddy together, bathed together and were tucked up in the same bed by one or the other's distant parent. In short, the first few years of their lives were perfect. 

Then Cas' Dad got a big promotion and and a new office in a city a couple of hours away, so, despite many tears and begging, Cas moved. They were sent to different middle schools, and began to run with very different people, gradually beginning to lose touch. Not deliberately, oh no, but just in the general way that people do: less visits, less phonecalls, and gradually fading to nothing at all. In fact, the pain of losing each other had all but faded by the time middle school was over. Hey, that shit is traumatic enough without moping on top of everything else. 

For Dean, the first two years of highschool ran without a hitch. Okay, so there was the odd detention here and there, but overall his grades were good and he landed a part time job in a mechanics which he was delighted with. His personal highlights were his place on football team, and beautiful girlfriend Lisa Braeden who worshiped the ground he walked on. And if you happened to ask him about his father's drinking, or that mysterious bruise on his cheek, he'd blow you off with a beautiful smile and a witty comment that made you forget that you even mentioned it. 

Cas on the other hand, had taken a slightly different approach. He preferred to fly below the radar, keep his head down and stay quiet. He kept his nose stuck in a book most of the time, and sat on the quiet table at lunch with the quiet people who need to hang out together because they have literally no other choice. You'd probably raise an eyebrow in shock to hear that he was related to the legendary Gabriel, school trickster, or Michael, the school dreamboat, or even Lucifer, the biggest badass to walk the face of the earth. He poured his heart and soul into his artwork, fingers always stained with charcoal, or acrylic paint splattered across his glasses. And so what if a certain freckled face and leaf green eyes seemed to crop up more often than not? Nobody needed to know that he still pined for the memory of his old best friend hundreds of miles away. 

Nobody could have foreseen that their paths would cross again. But then Cas' father was placed back in his old place of work, and much to Cas' shock, they were swept back into their old house within a month of the idea being put forward. This meant that Cas was all set to start his senior year at the nearest High School, after a whirlwind summer of packing and breaking the sudden news to acquaintances who didn't really give two shits but were 'sad to see him go.'


	3. Sam Is Bloody Ginormous

Dean strolled through the corridors on the first day back, nodding to various people, Lisa hanging off his arm, a crooked smirk etched on his chiseled features. He was in no rush to reach his first lesson. Who needs to learn Physics anyway? People to see, freshman to show who's boss... ahh yes, it was good to be back. His summer had hardly been eventful and, despite the mind numbingly boring classes that awaited, he couldn't quash the tingle of excitement that prickled up his spine about being back in his territory.

They reached the door of his classroom, where he leaned down to give Lisa a quick kiss and high five a couple of guys before gliding smoothly in, 1 minute early. He barely glanced around the classroom, he simply made for the back of the room and dropped into an empty seat by the window, waiting for the lesson to start. He heard the door crash open several minutes later and he jolted up, staring at the door. A small man with a clipped dark beard and a suit swaggered in. Dean stifled a groan. Godamnit. Anyone but Mr Crowley. The guy was an arrogant bag of dicks who didn't tolerate slacking or witty comments. Dean happened to be an expert in both. 

"Good morning," Crowley drawled in his british accent, "I believe we have a new student today, a mister..." he trailed off, squinting at the slip of paper in his hand. 

"Um, it's pronounced 'Castiel'," Dean heard a quiet voice mutter from a seat in the middle. Heads turned. A bolt of lightening seemed to shoot down his spine. Castiel? He looked over, hardly able to believe it. His eyes roamed wildly over the boy who had spoken. Messy dark hair, electrifying blue eyes and black rimmed glasses that he now pushed up nervously up his nose, eyes cast down towards the neatly annotated textbook on his desk. Holy turd on a stick. It was him.

"Oh, well then, 'Castiel', nice to have you with us today. Fallen from heaven have you?" Crowley deadpanned.

Cas' nose scrunched in confusion. "I don't...get it..."

Crowley shuffled in the awkward silence. "Castiel? The angel? Fallen from heaven maybe?" Silence. "Oh never mind. Turn to page 394 everyone."

Dean couldn't tear his eyes away from Cas. His best friend was now this geeky, awkward teen? Cas was blushing beet red, furiously scribbling away in his book, ignoring everyone else. Dean was vaguely aware of Crowley talking but his mind was racing at a million miles an hour. What should he do?

"Dean."

Should he introduce himself? See if Cas remembers him?

"Dean?"

But they were so different now. He knew exactly what all his friends would think if he introduced Cas to them. He shuddered at the thought.

"DEAN?" 

Dean's head snapped up to find Crowley glaring at him, and the whole class silent, staring.

"May I ask why the back of Mr Novak's head was evidently SO much more interesting than my class?" Crowley asked icily.

Dean risked a glance at Cas, and yes, he was staring back, open mouthed, eyes as round as marbles. 

"I - uh..." Dean stumbled, unable to drag his thoughts away from the shock of seeing Cas. Their eyes drilled into each other and Dean couldn't help drinking in the sight of the face that he had cried for so much and missed for so long. But he had to force himself to concentrate. Things were different now. It wasn't the same as when they were kids. He knew that him and Castiel could never be friends. But, looking into those bright blue eyes, it was hard to remember why.

"Well..." Crowley adressed the rest of the class, "Anyone else feel like we're intruding?" There were a few nervous titters from around the room. "Mr Winchester, Mr Novak, I suggest you get out of my classroom this very minute if you cannot be bothered to concentrate on my lessons." Dean looked up, shocked. Kicked out after only 10 minutes? That must be a new record of his. "Yes, you heard me, get out. Come back to my lesson tomorrow ready to actually put some effort in."

Dean rose slowly, then composed himself with a cocky wink at Crowley. He casually threw his bag onto his back and sauntered out of the classroom, vaguely aware of the patter of feet behind him. He walked out into the corridor then left into an empty classroom. He heard the classroom door slam and the footsteps following him stopped. He shut his eyes, swallowed, and then turned round.  
Blue eyes met green.

"Cas?" He heard himself say. He took a half step forward. Then before he knew what was happening his arms were full of sweater, tufts of dark hair tickling his face, arms tightly wrapped round the figure in a desperate hug, fingers digging in. "Holy shit Cas I missed you," he muttered thickly, face buried in dark hair, inhaling the familiar scent of apple shampoo and another indescribable smell that was simply Cas. He could feel sobs begining to wrack the body in his arms and he held him closer, the lump in his throat aching and tears beginning to threaten to prick his eyelids. 

"Oh Dean, oh God, I can't believe it's you," he heard, muffled from his arms. He knew he should step back but the relief and pure joy that he felt was too much. All he could do was hold on tightly, fingers coming up to play with the hair at the back of Cas' neck. He didn't know hold long they stood there, entwined. He only knew that eventually Cas' sobs stopped and his breathing became more controlled. Only then did he finally pull back, keeping a hand on Cas' arm as he moved. Cas breathed out a shaky sigh, a laugh escaping from his lips. 

"Phew," he grinned shakily, "That was some pretty impressive crying, huh?"

Dean laughed too, running his eyes all over Cas to re-acquaint himself with the figure that now stood before him. Lean, lightly muscled, a dorky sweater and the same gummy smile he remembered from so long ago. 

"I missed you so much," he blurted out. Cas looked at him closely. 

"I missed you too. So much. I always wondered what you'd be like now."

"And do I live up to expectations?" Dean struck a mock pose, his famous blue steel.

"Well, you're taller for a start," Cas grinned, running his eyes up and down Dean's body. Electricity crackled between them, a spark. 

"Huh, funny. I always thought you'd be as tall as me, but you're tiny," Dean teased delightedly. Cas gasped in mock indignation. 

"I am so not tiny! You're just... big!"

Dean let another laugh spill from his lips. He wanted to pull Cas in for another hug but he resisted. 

"You should see my baby brother Sam, he's bloody ginormous." Dean muttered bitterly, humour dancing in his eyes. 

"So you're tiny too then," Cas quipped.

"Not as tiny as you," Dean threw back automatically. It was amazing how quickly they had settled into comfortable conversation. Cas stepped forward mischievously and placed both hands on Dean's chest. Dean's heartbeat quickened. Cas stepped closer, then suddenly shoved backwards, sending Dean tumbling back a few steps.  
"Tiny, but strong," he grinning.

"Hey, you shocked me, no fair!" Dean cried in mock indignation.

"Well, what else did you think I was going to do?" Cas looked up at Dean through his thatch of hair with a twinkle in his eye. Dean blushed. They held each other's gaze for a few seconds before a bell rang, making both of them jump and ruining the moment. 

"Breaktime," Dean said, running one hand through his hair. He didn't miss the way Cas' eyes followed the motion. "Wanna come meet my friends?"

Cas looked uneasy. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but you don't have to do that. The people you hang around with are probably very different to the people I hung around with."

"Well, now I hang around with you, and you hang around with me. The people who actually matter to me won't give a rat's ass."

Cas smiled. "Okay then," he said simply. Dean smiled and opened the door, holding it for Cas with an exaggerated bow. Cas rolled his eyes and walked through, waiting for Dean who then lead the way through the packed hallways to the crowded cafeteria. Dean wove expertly through the jigsaw of tables until he reached one in the very center.


	4. Pinkie Promise

"Hey, guys?" Dean spoke and the table went quiet, turning to him, "This is Cas. We were friends years and years ago. We're friends now too actually. So he's gonna be hanging with us for the forseeable future. Any questions?"

A girl with wavy blonde hair and a beautiful smile stood up and crossed to Cas. Dean held his breath. "Hey Cas, I'm Jo," she beamed suddenly. Cas slumped his shoulders in relief and the conversation started up again around the table. "Ooooh, is that a sketchbook in your bag? What do you draw? Can you draw me? How do you..." She continued like this, rapid quick fire questions that immediately warmed Cas to her and Dean felt a rush of affection for his friend. A coupe of guys shifted seats. 

"Hey, new guy," a guy called Garth grinned, "Come sit here so we can interrogate you about your life."

Cas turned to Dean, panicked. "Yeah yeah, I'll come with you," Dean laughed, walking round the table with Cas to the one empty chair. Dean only hesitated for a second before sitting down and leaning forward to grab Cas around the waist, pulling him down to sit on his lap with a small yelp. Cas stiffened for a second, then relaxed into Dean. Garth barely batted an eyelid.

"This is nothing," Dean muttered in Cas' ear, "We used to share a bath, remember?" Cas let out a peal of laughter, twisting to grin at Dean. He opened his mouth to reply when suddenly Dean yelled out in pain.  
"OW bloody hell, what??" He twisted awkwardly to look at Lisa, who held his ear in a vice like grip. Cas leapt off Dean's lap and she dragged him up to a standing position. 

"Do you know what today is, honey?" She said, her voice dripping with bitter sarcasm. 

Dean's eyebrows knotted together. "Uhhh..." he said, brilliantly

"It's our anniversary, you complete asshole. When you didn't mention it this morning I though you'd be planning something for lunchtime, something romantic, but I get here to see you cosying up to a random guy! I thought you were going to buy me something special, not cheat on me," she was blazing with anger, nostrils flared.

"Look, it's not what you-" She cut him off.

"Don't say anything. We're over. And, FYI, Carver Edlund just asked me out and I SAID YES."

She spun, then flounced off in the opposite direction. There was silence round their table. The Cas suddenly piped up.

"Would it be totally insensitive for me to sit back down on your lap?" There was silence, then the table exploded with laughter. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Dean grinned, threading his arms around Cas' waist and pulling him back down.  
"Whoa whoa whoa," Garth chipped in, "I'm totally confused. Are you two, like, dating, or...?"

Dean turned to Cas, face red. "Look Cas, I guess I may as well tell you now because I've just broken up with the most materialistic bitch on the planet and I'm so happy with you right now I could explode. I guess... oh boy I don't know how to say this so here goes... I guess I've been nurturing this secret, pathetic crush on you for years, I just never let myself think about it. And seeing you today has made me remember just how much I like you. So yeah. That's me, that's where I stand. I like you, and I mean I really like you. And if you would agree, I would like to take you out on a date some time so that we can get to know each other all over again." Dean took a deep breath and looked down his hands, circled round Cas' waist. Cas twisted almost fully round and put one finger under Dean's chin, lifting his eyes up to meet his. 

"Dean, I don't know what to say." He gave Dean a smile, eyes locked. "I guess all there is to say is that... yes. Yes I would love to go on a date with you, and yes, lets get to know each other all over again and yes, lets kiss in the middle of this cafeteria."  
Dean burst out laughing. "You really have no verbal filter do you?" He stared deep into Cas' eyes for a second, then all at once pulled his face down to press their lips together in a warm lingering kiss that lasted for what felt like a lifetime. They broke apart, foreheads resting together, breathing a little faster, and their table erupted into cheers.

"You really do like me?" Cas asked Dean quietly, so no-one else could hear. 

"Yeah Cas. I really, really do."

"Pinkie promise?"

Dean entwined their little fingers. "Pinkie promise."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you tell that this was rushed?  
> Answer - absolutely.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so yes I did nick a tiny bit out of Ten Inch Hero  
> Page 394 was necessary in there I promise


End file.
